


In Your Hands

by Hymn



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Post-Series, Shock, conrad spelling, off-screen violence, smoosh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-14
Updated: 2008-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 22:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13984815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn/pseuds/Hymn
Summary: Yuuri has blood on his face, and his robe is in tatters, and fuck fuck fuck but he is tired. He feels dry, all wrung out, like he's used up all the water magic that he could have possibly contained and moved on to the water that made up his body, and he was going to wither up into a mummified carcass at any moment.





	In Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> a springkink prompt, Conrad/Yuuri: Worry - Strength is forgotten in the face of weakness.

Yuuri has blood on his face, and his robe is in tatters, and fuck fuck fuck but he is tired. He feels dry, all wrung out, like he's used up all the water magic that he could have possibly contained and moved on to the water that made up his body, and he was going to wither up into a mummified carcass at any moment. But the battle is won, and Yuuri's face is tight because of those he has lost, but this time, at least, he doesn't think his nightmares will be as bad; he's getting better at this, and he saved more people than he let be killed this time.

He stands in the midst of it all for a long time, before he moves, and gives soft words to his staggering and euphoric and broken soldiers; he doesn't know how long it takes for him to get back to the castle, he must be in shock, but he's still standing and giving orders that he needs to give, being as strong as possible for his people, for the ones that love him. 

Eventually, the crease between Gwendal's eyebrows relaxes a little, and he nods, and says, "Thank you, my King. There's nothing left that needs your attention. You can rest, now."

It takes a moment for Yuuri to compute that, but by the time he starts to nod and finishes, he's in his rooms, and then it takes him another moment to realize that there are someone else’s hands on him.

"Wha-" Yuuri's voice ends in a croak, and he coughs, and then squints and focuses on the tall solid figure curved around him, whose hands are warm against him, whose face is so sweet and hurting above.

"Yuuri," Conrad says, voice tangled around all the emotions that are bleeding into each other in his eyes. Yuuri breathes deep, knowing that he can be strong for Conrad, too, can smile and be reassuring, and hold Conrad until he stops shaking, whisper against Conrad's hair not to worry, Yuuri's still alive, still safe, Conrad didn't lose him.

But Conrad's looking down at him and in the reflection of Conrad's worry Yuuri sees himself as a pale boy with dark hair and dark bags beneath dark eyes, tired and worn down and still with faint smears of blood along his jaw, and so, so tired, a fragile creature who was born and knew silly troubles and who had people who wanted to wrap him up and hold him tight and safe and loved him despite his strength, for his weaknesses as well, and Yuuri-

For a moment, Yuuri forgets everything else except how much Conrad breaks inside that he can't protect Yuuri from everything, and Yuuri just lets himself be as weak as he needs to be, in the quiet aftermath. He can do that, for the both of them.

Conrad picks him up, breath trembling against his cheek, whispering nonsense that Yuuri hears in shades of gold like the sun, and takes whatever fears and love and fearsome, worried devotion Conrad has to give him.


End file.
